Fine
by Dama do Crime
Summary: He was fine. Because he needed to be.
1. Fine

**Birthday fic. Obviously, Athrun's POV. Set somewhere between Jachin Due and landing on Earth, so I guess it places it between SEED and Destiny, or, more specifically, between GS and GS: After-Phase Between the Stars.**

**Please keep in mind that English is not my first language, so be kind and do correct me!**

**Enjoy! ^^**

* * *

He was fine.

He didn't know why, _couldn't_ know why, but he somehow managed to keep his self-control in check. He wasn't surprised, though. He didn't know why he actually felt fine, but he _did_ know why he was ready to force himself to be if needed.

Because between minor incidents and morbid peace on the way back to Earth, he watched them.

He had to, it was his duty now that the Justice was destroyed. He watched how absent-minded Lacus had become, how her eyes would always travel to Kira, how her smile was getting emptier and emptier. He watched how Kira cried in his sleep, how he was growing quiet, how he seemed unable to stop his tears in random moments. He watched how often Cagalli lost control of her body in zero-g and had to cling onto his arms for support, how her temper was strangely absent sometimes, how she would cry on Kira's shoulder whenever the inevitable dark topics came up in conversation.

So he had to be fine. It wasn't a choice. He had to be there for them. For God's sake, he was a trained soldier – and a fairly good one, too. The others were not. Though Lacus excelled on her duty as a captain, she had been raised for politics and diplomacy rather than for command and military. Though Kira had the potential to be possibly the strongest pilot ever born, he was a civilian, and therefore, never meant to even see a mobile suit. Though Cagalli was far stronger than most of ZAFT female soldiers, she was a child, an idealist who was way too ready to take things to heart to be called a soldier. As for him, he had been raised to be the leader of whole armies, had been trained by all aces of all fields, had the discipline and calm necessary to forget any painful memories of the war. Yes, it was his duty to protect them now.

He wouldn't fail them. He had failed too many times already.

* * *

Lacus shouldn't be that peaceful.

He had made no effort to conclude that – it was just obvious. She had only cried just after what happened on Jachin Due, when a feverish Kira had to be supported by both him and Cagalli in order to make it to his room. On that night, she had hidden her face on her hands and cried briefly, before deciding to keep watch over Kira and sitting by his bed, her hands holding one of his. From what he was told later, she kept that way all night.

After that event, she took cheering everyone up as her responsibility, regardless of how deep was the frown that she often had when she thought no one else was looking.

As for him, he had known her for enough time to see how sensitive she was – if people around her were happy, so would she be. If people were sad, so would she be. And everyone was scared now.

So he started to make sure he would smile whenever she looked at him. Because maybe it would make her feel just a little happier. Or at least less despaired.

* * *

"Lacus.", he called once, when things got out of control and she could be found sitting quietly by a CIC station at any given time. _No need for a commander right now_, Watfield had said, and so she decided to take another function on Eternal. No one had the courage to say that wasn't needed either.

She tilted her head, looking at him.

"We are not going to be attacked right now.", he reassured, "Go spend some time with Kira."

She did. And he was disappointed to see it didn't change the tense line of her shoulders at all.

* * *

He wasn't sure why his body kept leading him to the simulators. But he knew it did, and he gladly accepted the idea, spending most of his day achieving higher scores.

7922540, 8145590, 8250927. Not quite enough. He wouldn't let Kira fight again, much less Cagalli, and they did lose La Flaga and Dearka wasn't exactly the most reliable person on the ship. So he _had_ to be able to reach at least three times his current score. If they were attacked, he should be strong enough to fight alone.

And he was growing to find the increasing numbers to be quite a comfort.

* * *

Kira was by far the one who was doing worse.

Hearing his sobs was already bad enough, but watching the circles under his eyes get darker and darker was almost scary.

The happy, careless boy he once knew seemed to be completely gone.

So he wasn't surprised to go out of his room in the middle of one night only to see a sleeping Kira sitting by the door. Their rooms were rather far from each other, so he didn't need to ask to know the reason that brought the brown-haired boy to the cold, empty corridor.

"Kira.", he whispered, touching his arm. Purple eyes looked at him, puzzled. "You can't sleep here."

"I know. But it's too lonely there.", came the simple, unrequested explanation.

"I know.", he muttered back, sitting by his side.

He did understand what Kira meant. Not because his own room was also lonely. But because it was full of ghosts.

* * *

"Kira, calm down.", he'd say when loud cries filled the room in the middle of the night. "You were sleeping. Calm down, it's safe now. You're not fighting. Not anymore."

On his best days, Kira would just nod, lie down and fall asleep again. On his worst, he would keep screaming – sometimes silently, sometimes so loud that Lacus and Cagalli would storm into the room. On such days, their presence made no difference at all. He couldn't recognize who he was talking to and in fact, he didn't even seem to perceive any of them as his whole body trembled in tears. Cagalli's arms around him wouldn't help at all, and neither would Lacus' songs or the wet towel placed on his forehead in an attempt to make the fever go away. It would be a hellish night for everyone, lasting any time from a few minutes to many hours.

But eventually, he would go back to sleep. And that's why they shared a room.

* * *

He could sleep fairly well, providing that Kira would wake him up at least once every night. He didn't have nightmares, he didn't have problems falling asleep, he didn't mind company or lack of thereof. And even if he woke up, he'd sleep again in less than five minutes.

So he didn't really mind when he noticed he kept waking for no reason every 90 minutes.

* * *

Cagalli was destroying her body.

Too much coffee, too little rest, too much work, too little food. She was, in short, killing herself. He was sure it was pretty much a matter of days before she'd collapse.

There wasn't much he could do about it besides making sure he always knew where she was, doing what and how pale she looked. Generally, the answers would be the same: on Kusanagi, trying to make contact with people related to Orb, paler than yesterday.

By the time they got halfway to Earth, he decided it was too much. He asked Kisaka to take care of Kusanagi, dragged her to the Eternal, gave her more productive tasks and made sure to hand her every meal.

But apparently that still didn't keep her hands from shaking whenever she heard a loud noise.

* * *

It was a new habit. She was always by his side, in some way or another. If she wasn't in fact talking to him as they crossed the corridors looking for someone needing help, she would still find him whenever he started to wonder where she could be. Or maybe he was the one always making sure he kept an eye on her.

Either way, the experience he had didn't prevent the mild shock he felt when she stopped in the middle of a phrase, quickly placing a hand on his arm, the other touching her forehead. Her eyes were closed, her lips dry and pale, her hands cold and shaking.

"Are you alright?", he asked, more than just slightly alarmed. It had been happening, lately: his heart would race, his brain would process millions of thoughts in a second, his reflexes would overreact. He knew it was related to what seemed years of carefully constructed fast responses to a threat. It could be very annoying, but he was glad about it now. Or else he would've missed the perfectly real danger she was facing now.

"Yeah.", she said quickly, opening her eyes and fixing them on the end of the corridor, "Just got a little dizzy."

"Should we-"

"No, I'm fine.", she promised, "No need for infirmary."

Her hand left his arm and she took an impulse on the gravity-less space. A small turn and she was facing him with fierce eyes.

"_You_ seem tired.", she stated, her eyes getting strangely sharp.

"Don't change the subject.", he retorted, holding her wrist to keep her from resuming their walk. "Have you been eating?"

"Of course I have!", she snarled back, "You don't give me much choice."

"When did you eat for the last time?", he insisted, subconsciously noticing a small hint of blush that proved she was embarrassed for lying.

"Not so long ago.", she averted her eyes (for no more than a second, but he didn't miss it).

"When?"

"I had breakfast.", she muttered finally, proceeding to proclaim a whole set of reasons. He didn't listen to any of them. Instead, he felt anger building up quickly and clenched his fists.

"Cagalli!", he shouted, trying his best not to go any further than that.

But apparently _that_ was too far already. Her eyes widened and she froze, lips parted as she freed her wrist to place her arm protectively in front of her body. He felt like punching himself. All his plans to keep her well and he forgot that almost every loud sound would send her back to battlefield. On top of that, it was her name – which he had noticed that only lost in bad memories to noises that seemed like explosions. Good job.

He closed his eyes for a second and focused on his breath, trying to calm himself down. A nice skill to have when being on the same team as Yzak. Nicer yet when dealing with a moody Cagalli.

He repeated her name, this time softly, and he could almost hear her breath going back to normal, her shoulders relaxing and her eyes slowly focusing on him.

It was too recent for her to deal with the traumas. He had seen that on younger soldiers. Most likely, it would take at least three months for her to live a fairly common life. That is, if he didn't make things worse. So he waited for a moment before returning to their argument, aware that she was not yet ready to face anger directed to her, rightful or not.

"The breakfast was more than six hours ago.", he said at last, trying to sound friendly, if not caring. Apparently it worked, because he had to try hard not to laugh when she lowered her eyes – the perfect image of a kid being scolded. He just didn't expect he'd be the one to do Kisaka's job. He'd always thought Kira would be the overprotective kind of brother, but so far he was more tender than tough, and so he had been learning how to keep Cagalli's temper from going overboard. A difficult task, but not impossible.

Pleased with the results so far, he took her hand and proceeded to pull her to the opposite direction they had been going.

"You can complain later.", he explained when she looked like she was ready to kill him, "Right now you get to eat before you pass out."

She frowned, but didn't struggle, and he took that as a victory.

And hoped he would win every three hours from this day on.

* * *

He had no problems eating. His food was perfectly balanced and he made sure he wouldn't skip any meal if he could help it. Sure, he didn't especially enjoy anything, but he didn't hate it either. And anyway, he wasn't even _supposed_ to like war rations.

Every day on lunch he would calmly eat, put his plate away on the proper place and wait a few minutes before going straight for his new ZAKU for a daily check on its structure and OS.

He had never hated food. So he was quite surprised he'd always throw up as soon as he saw the other damaged mobile suits.

* * *

He was fine.

But just because he needed to be.

* * *

**That's it.**

**What's wrong with me? I tortured the birthday boy! Well, apparently Athrun can't stop angsting on Seed, Destiny, OVAs, SPs, mangas and anywhere else. So maybe it actually makes some sense.**

**Oh. I ****_did_**** write this fic before his birthday. I just forgot to post. ^^'**

**And after angsting myself because I couldn't find a way to make things work out for Athrun, I decided to post it as it is. Maybe someday I can manage to write a Part II so that I can get Cagalli (or maybe Kira?) to fix him. Because I feel really bad about giving a character a problem but not a solution.**

**Hm… Reviews? What did you guys like? What you couldn't stand? Is my English as impossible to read as I'm sure it is?**


	2. Cold

**And after 4 months I'm here with another chapter. Real life and moody muses, sorry!**

**I'd like to thank my spiritual twin Yen for her ideas, support and general awesomeness. Sending you virtual Gundams, my Preciousss.**

* * *

He felt cold.

Utterly, thoroughly, unmistakably cold. Like if he was standing on a frozen room or if hot water was boiling inside him and even the faintest of the winds felt horribly chilly. Painfully so.

But nothing like that was happening. Instead, he was inside of the Justice, all his mind focused on getting closer and closer to his goal. He shivered in fear with each mobile suit and vessel he passed by. Inside of them, he knew, there were people. Some wounded, some dying. None of them listening to him as he tried to make them stop the battle. It was only fair; after all, he couldn't hear his own words either. His thoughts were too loud to allow that. And so was his heartbeat.

He had wondered many times if a racing heart was enough to justify the interruption of another heart, if a death was enough to justify another. Suddenly, that didn't sound like an important question anymore. The answer would be useless for him. It was too late now. Too late to believe anything. And it wasn't his place to fight time; it was his place to save people. Only that. No matter why, no matter what.

_Save them_.

A ZAKU exploded almost by his side and his eyebrows furrowed by themselves. His vision seemed blurry, and he shook his head quickly to dismiss unwanted thoughts. There were many things to think about, but he couldn't do that right now. Now, he had to stop GENESIS. Trembling or not.

Despite of that, he wondered again how many lives could be traded by a single one. How many deaths to forgive Junius Seven? How many in exchange for his mother? How many to make someone a murderer? How many to turn a murderer into a soldier?

For how many people was he willing to die?

_Save them._

An enemy (was there such thing?) missed a shot aimed for the Justice and he remembered blood. Suddenly, for no reason, emotionlessly. But the red image seemed to burn in front of him and for a moment, he lost sight of the open space ahead. There was too much blood, too many deaths. His father's body's deadly coldness, as if warmth wasn't fit for him anymore. (Had it ever been?)

He had gotten there too late. A little earlier, and maybe he could've saved him. But would he? Should he? As a son, he had been ready to die for him. And as a soldier, he was supposed to be just as ready to carry out his plans. As the traitor he was now, he should've tried to kill him. But which one of these was real? Which one was right?

And yet, none of that mattered now. Couldn't matter, _shouldn't_ matter. (Cool tears against warm skin, all his instincts fighting to turn back to a corpse and his entire mind set on protecting those who were still alive – did _that_ matter?)

Right now, he had to let go of instincts. Mind over matter, reason over emotion, experience over memory. All of his ZAFT lessons. Used against PLANTs.

_Save them. _

He was crossing the space too fast, and yet not fast enough.

A life in exchange for many. Yes, that was why he managed to keep himself alive until now. To sacrifice himself, to stop war in the same way it started. With death. The best thing he could do, the only choice he had.

So why was he so scared? Could he be as selfish as to treasure his own life above everyone else's? Above his friends?

The data in front of him told that he couldn't go any faster with the Justice, or else it would face damages. He wondered briefly if this was also why his chest seemed to hurt even though he knew he had no wounds.

But he was going to die anyway. So he went faster.

_Save them._

When he got inside the GENESIS, he knew that ideally, he would have to self-destruct in a little more than ten seconds. Any longer than that and maybe it'd be too late. (But he knew it was already too late for many people. Lives that would never be, promises that had never been. Friendship and love and faith and hope and trust. All in vain, all too late.)

He heard a strong sound outside and his eyes sharpened.

Jachin was probably starting to burn as his fingers worked as quickly as possible, typing codes he didn't know why he still remembered. (Why were they taught how to kill themselves? Why were they taught how to kill others? Why were they taught how to fight a war?)

_Save them._

10 seconds.

_Faster! You won't save them like this!_

9 seconds.

_No… You won't save them either way. Why are you even trying?_

8 seconds.

_You're too slow! What did you join ZAFT for?_

7 seconds.

_What did you fight Kira for? _

6 seconds.

_You couldn't save your mother._

5 seconds.

_You couldn't save your father._

4 seconds.

_You couldn't save Nicol._

3 seconds.

_You can't save them either._

2 seconds.

_What will you die for?_

1 second.

_What did you live for?_

_Save them._

* * *

"...thrun! Athrun!"

_Save them!_

"Athrun!"

His eyes opened wide and he gasped, the scenery around him changing from GENESIS to a white room faster than he could catch on. He was breathing quickly, and yet it seemed that no air was filling his lungs. His head hurt and so did his dry throat, but it was his heart that he took most notice of. It was fast enough to make his whole chest throb painfully, or so it seemed. He squirmed.

_Where am I?_

He tried to sit up, but a hand pressed softly on his own and he lost his strength immediately. _Damn._

"You must not move yet, Athrun."

He didn't even have to look to recognize the melodic, sweet voice; but he did anyway, hallucinated confusion taking control over his mind. Worried blue eyes on a composed face greeted him with strange cheerfulness, pink hair falling over slender and tense shoulders.

_Lacus… I am… Alright…?_

He noticed the slight furrow on her eyebrows and felt an overwhelming urge to speak, to tell her to calm down, to tell her he was fine, that she shouldn't worry, that he was only cold, nothing else – to say _anything_. But when he forced his dry lips to open, only a painful moan came out and he realized not only his head and throat, but his whole body was hurting. His stomach was burning, his limbs were trembling, all his muscles were sore, the needle on his arm itched. He felt crushed to pieces.

Moaning again, this time more quietly, he shut his eyes tight.

"We are on the infirmary, Athrun; you have a quite high fever.", she explained; and he could tell by her voice that she was holding a calm smile, "Your body temperature is above 106º F."

Her hands still over his were gentle and so was the humming tune she proceeded to sing when he moved uncomfortably – not one of her songs, but something he never heard before. Almost a lullaby, and yet very far from it. He shifted to a better position, the needle under his skin itching a little less now that he was unclenching his fists.

He opened his eyes and examined her blue ones absentmindedly, half-expecting her to say something. The melody did not stop, though, and he found the way she was able to answer his unvoiced request to be pleasantly reassuring, like if he was again on his home in Copernicus.

He wasn't surprised by this. Something about her presence always reminded him of his old life - before war, before blood, before sharp cold. She had never been part of such life, but right now, he felt like he didn't, either. So partially false memories were enough in the meantime – at least until he could figure out if he had any actual good remembrances.

He closed his eyes and relaxed a little in spite of the pain, his thoughts beginning to make more sense as his heartbeat slowed down. He felt calmer, braver, sleepier. Maybe it was the blanket carefully placed over him, or the weakness that seemed to be taking over his whole body, or even the lack of proper sleep. Or maybe it was the strong, yet soothing grip on his hand.

He let out a breath he was sure he hadn't been holding at all.

_I'm alive. Cagalli stopped me on Jachin… So why in the hell…?_

The image of his father came to his mind and his hand twitched involuntarily in an emotion he couldn't name; didn't _want_ to name. And he felt the tension of the tiny action spread through all his muscles. Annoyed by his own reaction, he clenched his fist in sheer irritation.

And a startled sound kept him from doing anything else.

He opened his eyes in curiosity as Lacus' hands left his to fold themselves over her lap. A well-mannered smile replaced the wordless song she had been singing.

He groaned quietly in protest, regretting the action even before the sound got past his lips.

_She shouldn't even be here… What am I complaining for?_

Apparently she was wondering the same thing, because she tilted her head and he had no choice but averting his eyes to run away from her confused expression. Soon, though, his eyelids felt too heavy and he allowed them to shut.

She laughed softly then, and a sudden heat surrounded his hand for a second time. He tried to open his eyes, but they refused to. Instead, the grip on his hand tightened just the slightest and he decided he rather liked the refreshing softness of her skin against his. He was used to solid weapons and the very concept of flesh felt out of place. But he was enjoying the light pressure that was nothing but a kind aid to the wet towel on his forehead.

And it was also warm, almost overwhelmingly so. Not enough to make him forget how cold he felt or to keep him from shivering, but it more than sufficed as a link to the real world, which he seemed to be losing of sight of once in a while. It made it a little bit harder to fight sleepiness, but it also made it a little easier to remember that even if he did sleep, he would eventually wake up. There would be no countdown, no next battle, no unreasonable orders, no dying people, no…

"Why don't you sleep?", he heard a distant voice suggest in perfect calm.

And despite his best efforts, he complied.

* * *

His eyes opened and he looked around. There was nothing but darkness to see. When he tried to move, he found that his body felt frozen. But he felt a tear lose itself on his hair. He was sure he wasn't crying, and maybe that's why no other tears came.

"Where are they?", he asked, without knowing why, "Where are _they_?"

He looked around, and could swear the room was full of faceless people. And though he had a distinct impression of hearing a question, the sound was mixed with many other phrases and he decided to ignore it altogether as he tried to sit up, stubbornly pushing the blankets away.

_Why nobody answers?_

A growing anxiety translated itself into irritation and he stared at the one ghost that seemed less surreal. He had no choice but going through the trouble of explaining the whole situation. The words came out effortlessly despite his impatience.

"Cagalli. Kira. L—"

A very real hand found its way to his shoulder then, and suddenly the room was almost empty. The name died on his tongue and he frowned in disbelief when he finally made out the gentle features of the delicate face.

"Lacus…", he finished quietly, staring at the messy blanket over his lap rather than facing her.

A small part of him was fairly embarrassed for calling out to someone who was right by his side, but he didn't really care. Despite his growing understanding of what was reality and what was dream, he couldn't ignore his worry about the crew. Maybe it was the horrible knowledge of his current situation: tied down to a bed until a recovery of something he didn't even bother to ask what exactly was. The answer wouldn't be more than _stress_ or _overworking_ or any of the things he was pretty sure that wouldn't get fixed with saline solution and rest. It was useless to be there, sleeping all day and worrying everyone.

"I am here", she said, and he couldn't tell whether she meant it as an answer to his previous questions or as a reassurance. He nodded in agreement either way, shrugging away from her help to lie down again. He also refused her motion to blanket him and felt extremely uncomfortable for the brief moment her hand brushed his. She placed them on her lap instead, and remained in quiet watch over him.

And he couldn't understand why all of that annoyed him so much.

So he stared at the ceiling, steadying his breath and trying to keep himself from snapping at her. It wasn't her fault that he was forced to be on a bed while there was so much to be done. He didn't even _feel_ feverish anymore!

_Should I try to run away?_

It was hardly the wisest option, he decided quickly.

Although he was beginning to get bored, he heard no bad news for the last few days (besides the general chaotic situation, of course). He wasn't requested to fight anymore, and the damages they could fix were already fixed. The rest would have to wait until they got to Orb (which hopefully wasn't as bad as they feared. It _was_ a strong nation after all.).

_Orb…_

"Are they alright?", he asked again, turning his head to look at Lacus' eyes – pretending he would be able to judge her sincerity and also pretending to forget he had never been successful in his attempts on this.

"Yes.", she smiled, "Cagalli was here until now and Kira has been quite busy looking after her. Do you want me to call them?"

"No.", he said defensively, "They worry too much."

_And I'm not so sure I'd be able to comfort them right now._

The thought made him notice the lack of rosiness on her cheeks. She wasn't pale, but she wasn't her usual self either.

_"_How about you?", he asked politely, glad to notice he was feeling slightly hot. He most definitively didn't have a fever right now.

"Me?", she tilted her head.

"Aren't you tired?"

"Oh.", she smiled brightly, "Please don't worry about it."

_She's tired._

"I'm better.", he promised, "You can go if you want."

"I will.", she promised back.

And for the first time in years, he was quite happy that he was being lied to.

* * *

**There are so many notes about this one that I won't even try to write them down.**

**If I can get my inner Athrun to go on, this might have two more chapters. Or not. Because when has Athrun ever helped me to write? Well... Wish me luck!  
**


End file.
